Child of the TARDIS
by Yuna Cifer
Summary: Harry knows, he doesn't know how, he just does. He knows that the couple in his dreams are really his parents and that the 'man with the red bow tie' is their friend. He also knows that when he looks at the stars there is something more out there.
1. Chapter 1

_This idea just popped into my head and I couldn't get it out so I had to write it. _

* * *

Harry Potter had always felt that his parents were special – that he was special, so when he found out he was a wizard he didn't hesitate to leave with the half-giant Hagrid.

When Harry Potter looked up at the stars he would always get a niggling feeling in his heart that there was more out there then burning balls of gas. Harry always studied the solar system and galaxies discovered by scientists such as Ursa Major, Hydra one of a pair of spiral galaxies overlapping constellations. On especially rough nights at the Dursley's Harry would look up at the night sky towards the Hydra constellations one visible star Alphard.

Harry always related to the star Alphard because of its nickname 'the solitary one'. They were both alone.

While gazing at the star he would 'talk' to the star and tell it everything that bothered him, he would even tell Alphard stories he dreamt of. Stories about a red-haired women and a man with wire-rimmed glasses and messy hair, they would have the most amazing adventures with a man in a red bowtie aboard an impossible machine.

For some reason Harry believed without a doubt that the red-haired woman and the man with wire-rimmed glasses were his mother and father. He can't explain why he just knows it, knows it in his heart.

* * *

As Harry enters Hogwarts and learns how to control his magical abilities and learns about himself and his parents, he also learns about Voldemort the man who killed his parents.

In his first year, Harry asks the Headmaster, Dumbledore about the man in the red bowtie, the man his parents traveled with.

"I'm sorry Harry I don't recall your parents travelling with a man of that description."

Dumbledore doesn't know but Harry, he knows it happened, he knows the man in the red bowtie exists.

He asks the Weaslys and they say the same thing they'd never heard of him or seen him.

* * *

Harry reaches his third year, he still wonders about his parents and the strange man that nobody knows.

When Harry returns to the Wizarding World and hears about Sirius Black he is enraged – how could this man their best friend betray them, sell them out to…to Voldemort. It was all he could do to not curse everything in sight. His friends Hermione and Ron tried to calm him down but he just couldn't anymore- he stormed off leaving them at the Shrieking Shack. _Where was the man in the red bow tie. _

Professor Lupin offers Harry a chance to learn the Patronus charm just in case he met another Dementor. Harry is grateful for the chance, but he also hopes for a chance to ask about the strange man nobody knows but him.

Spring comes and Harry begins to learn the Patronus charm he struggles with it at first using the memory of his first time on a broom. Then he uses a stronger memory, the one of his mother, father, and the man with the red bowtie. His Patronus comes out almost corporeal when he uses that memory. It brings a smile to his face.

He asks Lupin about the man in the bow tie, the man from his dreams.

"Professor did my mum and dad ever travel with a man who wore a red bow tie."

"A man who wears a red bow tie…I don't think so Harry. Why did you-"

"Never mind Professor, thanks" He said interrupting the Professor.

Sirius was standing next to Buckbeak about to take off. Harry had so many questions whizzing about in his head, questions about his parents. What were they like? What did they like? Why did they die? Am I like them? Out of all of those crucial questions on arose top most in his mind, even though he already knew he would get the same answer as before. He didn't care thought he had to ask.

Sirius jumped up on the Hippogriffs back, grabbing the chains preparing.

"Wait, Sirius just…one question, one question," Harry said stepping forward.

"Yeah, pup anything you want," Sirius said

"Do you know a man who wears a red bow tie…I think my parents traveled with him. I know what you're thinking, it's a stupid question…it's just I get this feeling like I know him and that my parents knew him, I don't know and I'm sorry I'm babbling now." He said running a nervous hand threw his unruly hair.

"It's okay, pup I know what you mean…about the feeling like you know someone bit though. Well, I can't say that James and Lily had any friends who wore bowties at least not any wizards, maybe he was muggle," Sirius said a slight frown on his rugged face, disappointed at not being able to answer his godsons question.

"That's okay Sirius I didn't think you'd know anyway," Harry said looking down and then smiling at his godfather he bid him farewell.

* * *

Another year passed and he was in fourth year. At the Feast Dumbledore announced that the Triwizard Tournament would be hosted at Hogwarts that year. Since the Tournament was notorious for being brutal an age restriction was being placed on it. Which was just fine for Harry since it meant Harry couldn't enter not that he would've in the first place. The tournament was dangerous and Harry already had enough excitement to last him a lifetime.

As it turned out Fate decided that he couldn't miss out on all of the fun and entered him in the tournament.

Which lands him in the current situation, standing in a room with three other Champions all with similar expression of disbelief and to be honest he didn't blame them; he didn't quite believe it himself. He hadn't entered himself in the tournament.

Fire-breathing dragon

_Check_

Homicidal Merpeople

_Check_

Two tasks down one to go Harry thought. How hard could a maze be, just rush in finish the maze get it over with, the end.

Harry stood shuffling from one foot to the other, waiting for the signal to go out the stadium, towards the maze. He was extremely nervous. Throughout the entire year he feel his scar prickling, he knew someone had put his name in the Goblet but not who, the whole thing reeked of Voldemort. Even though he didn't want to admit it he knew if Voldemort was going to make his move it would be now, during the last task.

The signal came and it was time.

* * *

Harry pulled in a rasping breath, pain shooting up his arm where Pettigrew had carved into it.

Harry looked at the Death Eaters in front of him through bleary eyes, everything was blurry. His scar was searing, tearing at the seam.

Voldemort was saying something he couldn't tell what, he was just so numb.

Finally Voldemort noticed him, sneering he approached him. Thinking himself invincible now, his blood running in the other man's veins now, he can hurt him now. His mother's blood can't protect him now.

Pain all he could feel was pain, he felt like was being split in two. Harry fought to keep his eyes open against the pain, his vision blurring, his eyes beginning to roll back into his head.

Then he saw them: the stars. Above in the sky, immediately he searched frantically for the correct star. There, there it was barely outside of his range of vision. The Solitary One, Alphard. Harry locks his gaze on the star focusing on it, on anything but the pain. For a while it's just him and 'the solitary one', nothing else. Then:

Voldemort releases him landing him on all fours making pain burst in his arm. His body moves on its own, now he has to duel to the death.

He doesn't know how he did it, he just knows he did. But if you ever asked he'd probably say he didn't think he'd survive.

As the boy lay in the hospital bed all he could think of was the future and what it held now that Voldemort had returned.

There was no turning back now.

He was going to do this. In honor of his mother and father, Voldemort wasn't going to win. Ever.

* * *

He had left him or was it the other way around. Harry had failed them, he'd gotten them injured. It was his fault – Harry Potters fault and now killed someone – gotten somebody killed. Lead him into a trap.

A trap meant for a foolish boy – a Gryffindor fool that goes running into trouble without a thought. A Gryffindor fool that has no idea what he's doing. A Gryffindor fool that gets his godfather killed.

His godfather, Sirius Black was Harry Potters only family, now dead, fallen through the veil.

Harry didn't care what others told him about nobody being able to do anything – it wasn't his fault. To him the whole thing had been his entire fault. If he hadn't followed that vision and been fooled by Voldemort. Sirius would still be alive. None of his friends would be hurt.

* * *

He'd given him a mission to complete – to destroy the Horcruxes. Destroy the Horcruxes then destroy Voldemort. There was just one thing Harry couldn't understand – is why the man who gave him the mission couldn't be there with him – why couldn't he have lived to complete it with him.

Why did Dumbledore let Malfoy disarm him, why? Harry couldn't understand. Why did Dumbledore let this happen, he knew Dumbledore could have easily prevented this. Yet, the only thing he bothered preventing was Harry interfering.

Stunning him and disillusioning him – he couldn't move or be seen. Watching every painful second – watching the strongest man in the Wizarding World give himself up. Harry strained his entire body trying to break free, fighting against the spell – it was no use though. Dumbledore was much too strong.

Harry was helpless to watch as Dumbledore's body toppled over the railings, falling from the tower.

Harry kneeled down next to Dumbledore his body supine arms spread eagle. Harry reached out a hand brushing away the headmasters silver hair. A tear escaped the boy's eyes, he swiped the tear away. Looking around Harry say the wands raise…lit up. Harry looked up to the sky lighting his own wand. He looked intently at the stars finding His star 'the solitary one'.

He gave the star a nod. The mission he was going to complete it.

* * *

Harry landed on his feet, thoughts swirling in his mind after seeing Snapes memories. Snape loved his mother and had protected him the whole time. Snape died while protecting him, the snake suffocating him.

Now he knows that he has to die or Voldemort will never die 'neither can live while the other survives'.

With no other choice Harry slipped out of the office walking with purpose in the direction of the Great Hall, his whole body tense and ready for what he was headed for.

Harry walked down the steps of the Entrance Hall Hermione and Ron sitting on the top step. He walked past they both looked, Hermione stood about to say something perhaps to say something, stop him.

Harry left.

The resurrection stone was held firmly in his hand the translucent form of his parents smiling in front of him. He asked if it would be painful Sirius, his godfather, just grinned and said it was just like taking a nap.

Harry smiled at them reassured, if only slightly. Harry forward toward the entrance of the clearing, he dropped it before he entered. He was going to ask about the man with the red bow tie, but couldn't. He wanted those last moments with his parents Sirius, and Remus, to just be them. He also didn't want to hear them say that they didn't know who he was – that he didn't exist.

So, he let it drop. If he was going to die anyway what did the answer matter?

Harry entered the clearing, he could hear Voldemort talking – confident that Harry was going to show – his back facing Harry, well here he was. Voldemort turned a bizarre look of glee adorning his pale face. Harry figured it was because Voldemort had guessed right and he had shown up or that he was about kill him. Didn't really matter to though since he was about to die.

Voldemort stood squarely in front of Harry telling him how he had basically won the war and blah blah blah. He was this and that. Harry just waited until he was done tensing when Voldemort pointed 'his' wand at him. Harry stared at it, it was strange seeing Dumbledore's wand pointed at him, with the intent to kill him.

Then: _Avada Kedavra!_

Harry didn't know what it felt like to die; he especially didn't know what it felt like to die via killing curse. But he was pretty sure from what he had seen; this was definitely not what it was supposed to feel like.

His whole body felt like it was on fire, ripping apart. Everything was on fire his insides, skin, eyes, teeth, everything burning. Then all he could see was fire – if you could call it seeing.

Then there was one last burst of pain and it was over.

_The Death Eaters and Voldemort stared. He had hit Potter with the killing curse and then: he started glowing and burst into golden flames. They watched dumbstruck as the golden waves came off of him and then they stopped._

_Potter was gone another person in his place, a man._

_They all stood staring the Death Eaters and Voldemort staring at this new development. The man stared back at them. Then he blinked and smiled._

_"Hi" _


	2. Chapter 2

**Sorry this took awhile to do but it took****_ waaay_**** longer than I thought it would to write. Also sorry for any terrible grammar mistakes as this is not edited.**

** First things first. I'm kinda playing this by ear so I'm sorry if this chapter is a bit dull. It should get better once Voldy is dead, which will be happening soon. **

**A Note to Whom it may Concern: Harry is not the Doctor or the Ponds long lost son. James and Lily are still Harry's parents and if you know River Song's story than you should know how she can regenerate and all that jazz. That's basically what Harry is. No relation to Ponds whatsoever. **

**Now for the disclaimer: I solemnly swear that I do not own Harry Potter or Doctor Who, J.K Rowling and the wonderful writers at BBC do. **

* * *

Harry decided that this was definitely not heaven, the afterlife - or even the next great adventure as the late Albus Dumbledore would say. Because if this was Heaven then Voldemort and all his marry men must be secretly working at the soup kitchens handing out chunks of bread to homeless little Oliver Twists. Or – he was in Hell – oh, that would be perfect, an eternity in Hell with Voldemort, _fantastic._

Please note the sarcasm.

Yet, Harry couldn't shake the feeling that there was something wrong with this whole scene. He remembered the killing curse and then dying and now this: having a little stare down with Voldemort.

They were obviously surprised that he was still alive – or whatever he was, he hadn't gotten that far yet. So unless he exploded and killed everybody – including Voldemort – then him and everybody else should be scattered like bacon bits. So if he isn't in heaven, hell or any other etherworld and Voldemort and his marry men aren't dead. Then – that means.

Oh.

Harry's eyes widened at his realization – well this was awkward. Harry blinked taking in the bewildered expressions – well the ones that weren't masked at least – of the Death Eaters. Voldemorts expression – if you could call it one with his snake-face and all – was the best priceless even. Except Harry had no time to enjoy Voldemort's non-expression, expression of disbelief as he was surrounded by Death Eaters, a no doubt soon to be fuming Dark Lord and now that he noticed – Acromantula.

Ok, at this moment a plan would be great. Voldy isn't going to stand there dumbstruck forever. There has to be away out of the clearing without getting killed –again.

Apparation.

A splendid idea Potter – the wards are down so apparation is a go.

Harry's eyes scanned the clearing and heart sank. Hagrid – he was tied, up held captive by the acromantula and Voldemort.

He had to rescue Hagrid but he couldn't, he'd have to get past all of the Death Eaters and that was if Voldemort hadn't already blasted his head off.

Harry looked at Hagrid made eye contact and promising through his eyes that he wouldn't leave him.

He had to make his escape quick, leave them dazed. Then hopefully – hopefully they'd come chasing after him and forget about Hagrid. There was also the chance they wouldn't and then – no no no, he wasn't even going to think that, his plan was going to work.

Harry looked back at Voldemort – straight into his eyes – and smiled _this was going to be great. _

"Hi"

Then as if someone flipped a switch, curses went flying, Voldemort yelled raising 'his' wand at Harry again.

Harry ducked the curses, rolling over to dodge another curse – which left a crater where he sat only second ago. Harry jumped to his feet whipping his wand out, holding it like he would for apparation.

Then for some reason – even though he knew he shouldn't and would never had before in his life – he grinned and waved his hand, long fingers wiggling as if saying ' toodles'.

Wait – what? Long fingers?

Just before Harry was about to contemplate the sudden growth of his appendages, he heard a shout and saw a mud colored or fudge colored spell speeding towards him. And since Harry didn't care much to figure out what was on the receiving end of an ambiguously colored spell.

He left turning on the spot, landing in the first place he could think of.

Harry landed roughly square on his feet, and if he was honest with himself he had to say it was pretty decent landing – no face plants!

He was in the Entrance Hall which was good because Ron and Hermione probably thought he was dead by now. Which he didn't blame them for of course; usually when one walks to their death they don't come back alive.

But then again he was Harry Potter.

Harry took a large stride toward the Great Hall – Harry stopped that's weird he never takes large strides - Harry shrugged he must just be fatigued nothing to worry about.

So after taking a few large strides, which before would have been many small strides, he reached the Great Hall. It was just as he had left it…wrecked and everyone was just as he had left them…grieving.

Harry walked into the Great Hall straight towards Ron and Hermione, who were sitting on a bench (which used to belong to the Slytherin table) holding hands. Harry strode over a little too confidently not even noticing the many pairs of eyes following him. He also failed to notice that as he got closer Professor McGonagall, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, and even Kingsley Shacklebolt and Slughorn were standing.

Just as Harry was about to announce his presence to Ron and Hermione – and his wonderful aliveness, there was a shout that sounded suspiciously like Misses Weasley. Harry jumped startled turning around, he was within spitting distance of Ron and Hermione – not that he'd be spitting on them or anything, it was just the best measurement he could come up with ( and since when did he start thinking like this so, so fast and rapid )

Mrs. Weasley was only standing a trolls club length away (he patted himself on the back for that one) he wand pointed at him. Harry looked at her confused, she _was _pointing her wand at him right? Yeah, yup she was – definitely right at him – shooting to kill. Oh, god what was happening now.

First he dies _again _and then somehow lives – unless he never died, yeah still trying to figure that one out.

Now, now the Weasley matriarch has it out for him – nope scratch that, now everyone's wands are drawn.

Harry stands there raising his hands showing that he isn't armed – well he is but there is no way he could reach his wand without them noticing. They stand there in a silent stalemate – again. Harry rolls his eyes internally – this was getting old – waiting for someone to break the silence.

One minute and forty-two seconds that's how long it took until Kingsley Shackelbolt started demanding answers.

"Who are you? What do you want?" Kingsley said voice rumbling as he questioned Harry.

Harry decided to go with the obvious, he really had no idea what was going on.

"I want to talk to my friends, I'm Harry Potter," said Harry and then all hell broke loose.

Suddenly curses, hexes and charms where flying at him all at the same time so naturally Harry dove for the floor; which naturally resulted in someone jumping on his back pinning him to the floor, smashing his face onto the stone floor.

"Auggh, gerrof me," Harry grunted from his place on the floor.

" I don't think so, not until you tell us who you are," said the person on top of him: it was Ron.

_Fantastic. _It really wasn't.

"I already told you, Jesus what's wrong with you guys?" said Harry starting to get a little ticked now.

"Yeah right, I think I'd know my own friend when I see him – and you are certainly not him, much to tall," Ron said from on top of him, his elbow digging into Harry's shoulder blade, probably intentional.

"What the hell are you talking about? I am Harry you bleeding git!," Harry said now shouting this was so stupid why didn't they believe him.

"Why don't we ask him a safety question, it couldn't hurt," said Hermione' voice uncertain and Harry could just imagine her looking at the others for confirmation that it was alright.

Hand it to Hermione to think of asking a safety question - brilliant brilliant Hermione always there when you need her Hermione.

Kingsley nodded to Hermione agreeing with her. Hermione's expression became thoughtful as she thought of an appropriate question for 'Harry'.

"What did I say to Harry Potter after we read Rita Skeeters biography on Dumbledore?" said Hermione looking down at him a firm expression on her face.

Harry knew the answer and now that he knew everything he knew it was true. "You told me that he loves me, that Albus Dumbledore loved me."

"That's right, he does," said Hermione.

"Can you let me up now," Harry said wriggling underneath Ron whose knee was digging into Harry's back.

Kingsley nodded to Ron and gestured signaling that he could let Harry up.

Once Ron was off of him, Harry immediately stood up. But as soon as he got up right his hands were quickly bound by a quick spell from Kingsley.

Harry looked at Kingsley confused. "I thought you were letting me go?"

"I'm sorry but we just can't trust you?"

"What! What the hell are you talking about?!" Harry yelled frustrated that they were being so difficult. Harry sighed heavily, running a hand through his messy curls.

Curls?

Since when did he have those? Then it hit him: _you are certainly not him, much too tall. _And when he walked his gait was way bigger than before.

Just to prove his theory Harry removed his bound hand from his now curly hair to his face. His felt around cataloguing the changes: longer face, high cheekbones, and taller which was a plus. As he felt around one thought went through his mind, _how?_

Several theories popped into his mind: Transfiguration, a potion, some new and undiscovered spell that Voldemort used on him (he scratched that one out quick – Voldemort was just as surprised as he was). Transfiguration didn't make sense because as far as he knew you couldn't alter someone's whole body. A potion, not likely since he hadn't drank anything in hours.

So he basically had no idea what happened but he knew it had.

As Harry was exploring his new, uh – body, he supposed. Ron stood not far away watching suspiciously, finally he couldn't take it anymore and stomped over to Harry demanding that he tell him.

"What are you up to?" Ron said eyes narrowed.

Harry ignored the question, "Listen Ron this is going to sound crazy but something weird happened back at the clearing with Voldemort, and somehow my whole face has changed." Harry said noting how his voice was deeper as well.

Ron just stared at him his face blank then he blinked coming out of his shock.

"Yeah, a likely story for a Death Eater, real convenient," Ron said glaring at him.

Harry figured that if this was one of Voldemorts plans then it was working, because having his friends not know him when he clearly knew them was frustrating.

"Ron I know you, you have to believe me – because right now Voldemort is heading this way, because when he hit me with the killing curse I didn't die and something happened right then – I don't know what, all I know is that now I'm different – but I'm still me."

As Harry was talking Hermione had moved closer standing beside Ron, listening. Harry looked into Ron's eyes trying to get him to believe him just by eye contact alone.

Ron fixed Harry with a steady glare in return, "Nice try Death Eater, but I'll give you points on your imagination." Ron retorted the joke falling flat at the end.

Harry groaned inwardly, he turned to Hermione. Ron tensed.

"Hermione you know me right – you know despite this," Harry said gesturing to his face. "Hermione I know you – while we were camping I noticed – can't sleep unless you've read something, you wet your toothbrush first before you put toothpaste on it, you don't like your feet being too warm when you sleep so you end up kicking off the cover – but then your feet are too cold so then you cover them again, and then you end up right where you started off," said Harry a little out of breath at the end of his words.

"How do you know that?" said Hermione bewildered at this man's knowledge.

"I believe you already know the answer to that question Hermione?" intoned Harry feeling like he was finally getting somewhere.

"You – you are him, you're Harry – but how?" said Hermione figuring it out and then realizing something else.

"But how we saw you go to Voldemort – we thought you were…how are you –"

"Alive, I don't know – but there isn't any time for that because Voldemort is on his way and I'm not dead – again," interrupted Harry as he began to walk out of the Great Hall wrists still bound.

"Wait! Harry you can't just go," shouted Hermione she started following him, struggling to keep up with his long gait.

"Hermione you don't really believe him do you, he's a Death Eater," said Ron chasing after them.

Hermione stopped turning on the red-head, "Well I believe him, there's now way anybody could have known those things they were to…intimate – and we all were living in a tent in close quarters for months – we all learned things about each other. Harry's my friend and I believe him – and if you're his you will to." Hermione said confident staring at Ron daring him to contradict.

"Alright Hermione, for Harry but if this guy tries anything I'll hex him into the next century." Ron agreed following her out of the Great Hall.

Ron and Hermione caught site of Harry, he waved with his bound hands, waiting. They started towards Harry but only got so far as a step, as they were knocked down, by the ground moving under them.

Debris started falling from the ceiling crashing feet away from them.

Ron grabbed Hermione's arm hauling her up, "We have to go or we'll be killed!" Ron shouted, leading Hermione away from the entrance of the Great Hall.

They ran until they reached the Entrance Hall, but Hermione stopped making Ron stop short.

"What? Why did are you stopping?" Ron said, looking Hermione up and down checking for injury and finding none.

"It's Harry, his wrists their still bound he won't be able to get out," said Hermione worriedly.

"We're going to go help him aren't we?" questioned Ron.

"Yes, Ronald we are," replied Hermione.

They both ran back through the Entrance Hall, ground still shaking, dodging falling debris. They both managed to get back to the entrance of the Great Hall.

Ron and Hermione searched around for the figure of Harry Potter. They both decided that splitting up would be faster, covering more ground.

Ron scanned the floor moving rubble then he saw it, against the wall - the black curly hair giving him away. Ron shouted for Hermione that he found him.

Ron leaned over shaking Harry trying to wake him. Eventually his eyes fluttered open. Ron and Hermione released sighs of relief.

Harry groaned coming to, a smile slide onto his face at seeing his friends' faces above him.

"We need to go Harry, can you get up?" asked Hermione concern in her voice.

"Yeah, I'm alright just a bump on the head," replied Harry, sitting up rubbing the back of his head.

"What do you think that was? You don't think –"Ron began but was interrupted by Harry.

"Voldemort, yeah he's here," Harry said finishing Ron's thought. "We need to get out there, or else he's going to bring the whole castle down."

Harry stood up wobbling a bit, but was steadied quickly by Hermione grabbing his arm. Hermione looked at Harry worried, but he just smiled assuring her he was fine.

They exited the castle to find the other standing outside as well. Kingsley Shacklebolt, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, Professor McGonagall, Ginny, George, Neville, Luna, and everybody else stood in a semi-circle facing away from the castle.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione pushed through the crowd to see Voldemort with his Death Eaters also in a semi-circle.

In the middle of the semi-circle was Hagrid hands bound behind his back, gag in his mouth. His face bloody and sweaty.


	3. Chapter 3

**Sorry this took so long I have no good excuse *slaps self* bad llama bad llama. Anyways as per usual this unedited and I just finished this like ten minutes ago so don't kill me if it sucks. Also reviews are appreciated as well as constructive criticism I really want to know how I'm doing. **

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, Voldemort ( you can have him J.K.), or Doctor Who those lovely people at the BBC do. Moffat! *shakes fist***

* * *

Washed out blue-green eyes meet blood red eyes. Harry stands meeting his foe for hopefully the last time. Everyone is silent the surrounding nature has even halted its music, for this moment everything has frozen.

Out of the corner of his eye Harry sees Hermione wave her wand freeing his hands. He rubs his wrists still keeping his eyes fixed on Voldemort.

"Harry Potter," Voldemort finally speaks, dragging out his name like an invitation.

He steps forward, stopping with several feet between him and Voldemort.

"Tom," Harry says flatly, they both start to circle the other.

Voldemort's nostrils flare at the name, his eyes burning with the indignation.

"I wonder Harry that was quite a trick you should be dead – The Boy Who Lived Twice now how did you manage that – Oh, this is rich Harry Potter you've been dabbling in the Dark Arts," said Voldemort, a look of triumph on his snake face.

Ron and Hermione tensed at the accusation toward their friend they didn't know what to think, they didn't know how this had happened.

"Wrong," Harry says, it's just one word but it's enough for Ron and Hermione.

They continue to circle each other like two poles repelling the other creating their own gravitational force. Harry watches Voldemort his denial against the Dark Arts hasn't fazed him, he's still confident.

He has a plan a good one to – had it for a while to. He figured it out not that long ago what it was – the Death Stick – its real owner. He's feeling awful clever for that one.

With this new uh…development he may have to rescind his plan – he didn't know how the loyalty of wands worked if you suddenly transfigured into a different person. Not necessarily a different person more along the lines of new body. He definitely felt fresh, fresher than he had in the forest at least.

Six point seven seconds. Now it was time to make a plan B…now.

"Wrong?" Voldemort says, he sounds confident like he knows he's going to win anyway so he might as well unlock this mystery.

"Wrong yes I would know if I were using Dark Magic and if you're wondering what happened back there, I haven't the slightest. "

Then he noticed for the first and last time he and Voldemort were on even ground they both had no idea what had happened. Even though both would never say so to the other.

"There is one thing I know Tom and that is only one of us is coming out of this alive and it's definitely not you, neither can live while the other survives."

"You've grown confident don't think that just because you survived this time that you'll get lucky a second time,"

"No I don't believe I will, that's why I'm going to end this here, I want to watch the light leave your eyes," said Harry mimicking Voldemorts words from that night at the cemetery.

As they circled one another Harry could feel his insides tingling and burning, a tugging sensation throughout his body. He felt like his insides were being pulled forward like a magnet. No, not pulled but pulling something toward him.

Something that was his he didn't know how he knew it was his but he just did. That seemed to be happening a lot, knowing something by instinct.

He looked at Voldemort and he could tell by the tightening around his eyes that he could feel it as well.

"_Dumbledore is dead _boy there are no more bodies to hide behind anymore, time to face your mortality and die."

"That's rich coming from you Riddle, all of the Horcruxes are gone maybe it's time you faced your mortality."

Voldemorts eyes blazed and Harry could feel the curse building in him. He could also feel the tugging sensation increasing almost as if it desperately wanted what had been taken.

Harry studied Voldemort wondering what it was that could be causing the sensations. It was like something had been taken, removed. He could feel it inside of him so that must be what was missing. He had all of the facts in front of him now he just needed to put it together.

Five seconds.

Ten seconds.

Fifteen seconds. Oh, brilliant he knew exactly what to do. Plan B is a go. _Excellent!_

"The Horcruxes are gone Tom Riddle and this ends tonight so before you die how about you try for some…remorse," Harry didn't know why he was giving him this chance, everyone deserves a second chance but Tom Riddle was beyond it.

"_You dare…"_

"Yes I dare, because Tom there is one final thing, you have something of mine and I want it back."

"And that would be?"

Harry stopped circling stopping Voldemort. He sincerely hopped this worked otherwise he was a dead man. He took a deep breath drawing in what was his.

Voldemort faltered only held back by one last secret.

"This," Harry said and then he threw back his arms putting in all of his strength into this one task.

Voldemorts body burned orange, as the yellow fire that emitted from Harry not long ago erupted from him. Voldemort screamed as the golden flames were forcibly ripped from him.

Harry stood across the way golden flames licking his fingertips a stark contrast to Voldemort who had fallen to his knees in pain. The golden flames now flickered between the two hovering, then it flew hurtling towards Harry and when it looked as if it would knock it him over. It just melded into him seeping into him, his skin glowed orange for a second then returning to its natural pallor.

Everyone Death Eaters and Order members stood mesmerized at what they saw, the golden flames, Voldemort on his knees, the Boy-Who-Lived glowing. They all watched as Voldemort swayed on his knees and then toppling over.

Harry stood his insides felt like they were on fire and he had no idea why. He worried that maybe he was about to die again. Harry saw Voldemort fall and wondered if he had died after he had taken back his, whatever it was that he took back. He knew that he had gotten it when Voldemort resurrected himself, by using himself he just didn't know why it was glowing golden flames.

Harry toppled over as another wave of fire ripped through him and he gritted his teeth. He shut his eyes at the pain, it was everywhere. He could hear someone walking toward him; he hoped it wasn't a Death Eater, but then he decided he didn't care. He hurt too much.

He felt someone shake him which only made it worse. His skin was so sensitive like sandpaper against chalkboard. He screamed out and told whoever was touching him to stop. They stopped but then they started talking bringing on a whole new type of pain.

"Harry Harry you've got to get up the Death Eaters aren't going to stand about gob smacked forever," it was Hermione's voice, it felt like she was yelling straight into his ear.

Harry groaned, he knew that he couldn't lay there forever. Then another wave of pain hit him curling into himself he clutched his stomach. Every fiber of his being was on fire and now he can feel himself slipping.

Hermione watched in morbid fascination, and Voldemort screamed out as orange fire ripped its way out of him and hovered between him and Harry. The golden flames hovered for seconds and then attacked her friend. They didn't do any damage though only softly melting into his skin making it glow a beautiful yellow-orange, then fading.

Then as Voldemort fell unmoving she saw Harry begin to sway and then cry out. Hermione didn't even have to think she immediately ran to his side worried that whatever he did had hurt him

Hermione could see out of the corner of her eyes, Bellatrix also run towards Voldemort. She hoped he was dead.

Hermione shook Harry's shoulder - he was on his back clutching himself eyes closed tight in obvious pain – trying to get a response. He screamed, told her no, don't. She let go immediately frightened by the violent response.

"Harry Harry you've got to get up the Death Eaters aren't going to stand about gob smacked forever," she knew it was wrong of her to ask this when it was clear he was in pain but Death Eaters wouldn't care. Hermione could see him flinch at her words, and she wondered if her voice hurt as well.

He was getting worse there was no way he was going to be able to stand. Hermione looked over her shoulder and saw Bellatrix looking over Voldemort, her mouth was moving and his chest was heaving. He was no better than Harry.

Harry let out a groan of pain; Hermione immediately turned back to Harry. His eyes were open now, barely though.

Then one last groan and his eyes close, his body stops writhing. For one wild second Hermione thinks he's died but then she sees the gentle rise and fall that is breathing. Hermione sighs relieved he's only passed out.

A scream rings out and Hermione knows that Voldemort has died. She waves her wand levitating Harry's unconscious form.

Red, green, purple, fly over her head as the battle commences and Hermione retreats to the castle settling Harry's unconscious form upon the floor. It isn't long before the battle ends; the Death Eaters are without their leader there disorganized and are few in number. Most of the Death Eaters are captured the others who resisted were killed.

Everyone celebrates the swift victory but Hermione and Ron worry unable to fully appreciate the victory just yet. Harry Potter is still unconscious; the battle is still not over for the two best friends.

A young man lies in bed sweating profusely, chest heaving as he sleeps deeply. A young woman about eighteen years of age sits worried by his side. She holds a damp rag which she has been using to wipe the dampness from her friends forehead, cooling him.

Hermione Granger sits apprehensive watching her friend sleep restlessly, his breaths coming in heavily in short bursts then slowing down. She worries because she has never seen or heard about anything like this before in her life.

She even tried going to the school library after they moved Harry here Grimmlaud Place – but there was nothing, no magical illnesses or curses, hexes, nothing that matched what she was now witnessing. She was honestly stumped. Even the Black Family library was no use.

She even observed a cloud of that same golden light escape Harry's mouth it frightened her, all these changes. His appearance even his personality seemed different. It truly frightened her was this person before her even still Harry. He said so sure, he even answered the safety question right.

For once in her life Hermione didn't know the answer to something, she didn't know what to do. Frustrated and worried beyond belief Hermione began twisting the cloth in her hands.

A hand rested on her shoulder making her jump violently, the cloth falling to the floor untwisting. A chuckle sounded and Hermione wanted to slap her boyfriend for frightening her, instead she glared at him.

"Sorry, I startled you," Ron said pulling up a chair next to his girlfriend.

"It's ok, I was just thinking," Hermione replied smiling a little, letting Ron know it was ok.

"What do you think? Is he going to wake up? Its been two days," asked Ron, his brows furrowed looking at the figure sleeping on the bed.

"I don't know, Poppy said that he's in perfect health actually more than perfect. There's no reason for him to be sick like this," said Hermione, leaning forward and placing a hand on the side of Harry's face feeling his temperature, normal like the last time. She traced the side of his face up to his forehead where messy curls dampened by sweat stuck to it. As gently as possible she brushed aside those curls freeing his forehead.

Hermione looked at Harry's forehead now free of messy black curls. She noticed that, that was not the only thing Harry was missing on his forehead. It was now completely smooth and free of any blemish including the lightning bolt scar that previously marred his skin. Now without the scar he was free of…everything. The Boy-Who-Lived, the prophecy, and the hero worship.

Hermione smiled she was glad for her friend and when he wakes she'll do everything in her power to make sure he gets the life he was meant to have.

Hermione sits back her hands resting in her lap she can't believe that Voldemort has been defeated and when Harry wakes up it will be over for all of them and they'll all be together. Hermione can feel warmth envelope her hands and when she looks down a pair of hands are holding hers.

She looks over at her boyfriend meeting his cool blue eyes. She smiles at him letting him now her appreciation.

Hermione sleeps heavily on the wing backed chair under a dusty quilt snatched from one of the many rooms in the old Black estate. Hermione shifts on the chair feeling a crick forming in her neck that she knows she is going to regret later, but she could care less as long as she is there when Harry wakes up.

Just as Hermione is coming out of the REM stages of sleep and a voice is drifting in through her dreams, a deep baritone voice that is calling her name and is so familiar, yet so new and alien. Then she wakes startled because someone really is calling her name.

"Hermione?" that baritone voice asks. Hermione smiles when she sees Harry awake, without warning she lunges at him clutching him tight relieved that her best friend has woken up from his slumber.

"Good evening sleeping beauty," quips Ron as he walks into the room still just as happy to see Harry awake as Hermione but choosing to show it in a manly way.

Hermione scowls at Ron and makes a stop-being-such-a-man-and-join gesture. Ron in turn does a might-was-well shrug and joins in on the hug. After realizing that they were suffocating there friend Ron peeled Hermione off Harry, sitting them on the edge of the bed.

"So how long?" Harry said wanting to know how long he had been out and how bad the community was taking his absence. It really wasn't something he wanted to address right away or ever but it had to be done eventually.

"It's been three days, mate." Ron said, getting goose bumps. It was very strange seeing and hearing his friend talk and make facial expressions that were his but not. They were the same ones he'd make just not the same face. What really got him was the voice and for Ron it brought back to many memories of potions class, Harry's voice was a bit to Snape-ish.

Ron had already made his decision and that no matter what Harry looked like he was going to follow him where ever he went. Well, so long as he didn't go all snake-face that was where he was drawing the line. A Gryffindor through and through there was no way he was missing out on this mystery.

"What are they saying? Do they know?" obviously referring to his transformation and the peculiar method he used to kill the Dark Lord. Harry fixed his washed out green eyes – almost as if the killing curse shade of before left him as he ridded himself of Voldemort's soul - on his friends.

"Nothing, we told Kingsley and he swore the order and everyone who was at the battle, even the Death Eaters to secrecy. They've made him acting Minister of Magic." Finished Hermione, there was one bit she left out that made Kingsley's plan of swearing everyone to secrecy successful, but she didn't want to say it until Harry asked.

"What's the story then?"

Hermione gulped she really hoped that he wouldn't be mad at them for making this decision without them but it was for the best and the only one that would work.

"Your dead, everyone thinks you're dead." Hermione looked down at her hands not wanting to see the angry or betrayed look on her friends face.

Harry couldn't have been happier at the news. He was dead, _well _not really. He wondered what they put on his death certificate COD died in action. That would be cool, unless it was something lame like crushed by rollercoaster. Eesh, now that would be a lame death, no offense to those who have died in such a manner though, it's just a lame death.

Right, right dead freedom no annoying reporters or gossips. Harry didn't know why Hermione looked sad, frowning at her hands but this was like a second birthday. Speaking of which, did this transformation mean he got a second birthday like a birth-birthday and a trans-birthday, no that didn't sound right. Makes it sound like some sorta transvestites sex change day. Perhaps something more like regeneration day, yeah that was cool.

Anyways, Harry's mind processed this all in about thirty seconds which to him was an eternity, but to his two friends was just that thirty seconds and the duo were beginning to think there friend was very cross with them.

As Harry's inner monologue about lame rollercoaster deaths and transvestites second birthdays, a smile steadily grew on his face into a V-shape. Ron and Hermione were unsure what to make of this reaction as it did not look entirely natural on Harry's face which has an aristocratic appearance, high cheekbones, long lean limbs, alabaster skin and long slender fingers. All traits they've seen in pure blood families and never have they seen such an aristocratic face express…emotion.

Suddenly in a burst of energy-unnatural for someone who has just woken up from a mini-coma-Harry jumped out of bed, twirling around and clapping his hands.

"This is fantastic, excellent – oh my God, I'm dead!" Harry announced, pulling Hermione out of her seat and hugging her and then doing the same to Ron. Completely caught up in his euphoria and having no better idea how to thank his two friends.

Still holding onto Ron he kissed him roughly on the mouth, Ron's eyes widened but he had no time to protest for the kiss quickly ended. Then before he knew it his friend was kissing his girlfriend on the mouth for a bit longer the he had Ron. Then both kisses were over.

Like he was on speed Harry was bouncing up and down. "Oh, we must celebrate; I have ideas, a birthday party – no that implies a group of people, just us then. A small celebration in honor of our victory and my new transformation, I call it regeneration day you like it, cool yeah." Harry said, exuberantly completely oblivious to his friend's bewildered expressions.

The three friends sat down in the back of the muggle pub, _Lucky's Pub. _Following tradition the three wizards – correction two wizards, one witch – did not bother to change and showed up at the pub in their wizards robes.

Harry on the other hand thanks to his 'regeneration' now had no fitting robes – even Ron's robes would not fit as Harry was now taller. When the trio had realized this the red-head had pointed out that it was only by a few inches – luckily Regulus was a tall bloke and had a decent set of robes.

Unfortunately said robes were all green and silver, Slytherin colors. Harry tried the robes on anyway to the trios surprise and utter mortification the Slytherin colored robes actually looked great on him, complimenting Harry's washed out green eyes nicely.

So now with black slacks, white button-up, and robes all from Regulus's wardrobe Harry and his friends now sat at the pub.

The waiter took their order with a concerned expression when Harry ordered two baskets of potato skins and three baskets of fish and chips. Ron and Hermione also gave concerned looks but didn't bother; he had just woken up from a three day mini-coma - and just ordered beers for all of them.

The beers arrived first before the food. Taking a sip of her beer-which admittedly was not as good as butter beer- Hermione began the much needed conversation.

"So what is going on? What is this?"

Ron and Harry raised their brows surprised that Hermione was at a loss for once and that she was asking the two most likely people to not have a clue. Hermione huffed indignant at their expressions.

"Just because I got an A on Binns's tests does not automatically mean that I know _everything, _and this this is special." Hermione said crossly, the boys raised their hands in surrender backing up surprised at her snappy tone.

"Sorry, we didn't mean anything," said Ron, placating placing a hand on Hermione's she smiled at him thankful for the gesture.

Hermione sighed tired ready to find answers not knowing how distant those answers were.

"I've researched but found nothing the school library; the Black collection neither had anything. This isn't anything the magical world has heard of before." Said Hermione defeated, completely at a loss.

"Maybe I think it could be," Harry said an idea – just an image though – flashed in his mind. It was small but enough and that was all they had.

"What is it Harry?" said Hermione, sitting up hopeful.

"It's just I've had this feeling since I was little that the world was bigger than we thought and I've always known, just known that my parents travelled with a man who wears a red-bowtie. And that they've travelled further than we could imagine, seen more than we could imagine. It sounds insane I know but, I think I need to meet this man I don't know why I can just feel it." Harry finished, the emotion in his voice matched the same passion as when he talked about love toward Voldemort.

Hermione could feel it and knew that if they found this man it wouldn't matter if they knew what was going on or not, Harry would be happy having found him.

"Are you sure?" Hermione asked she wanted to make sure even though she knew he already was. The conviction in his voice was proof enough.

"I'm positive."

The food arrived and Harry dived in all conversation completely forgotten for now. Yet they had a lead more like a hunch but it was something.


	4. Chapter 4

Sorry for the extreme delay. I had summer school and I'm just lazy.

This chapter is beta'd by MelodySong231. So now you shall no longer be subjected to my bad grammar.

I've made a vague timeline explaining Harry's past to the Doctor. It's on my profile check it out.

Disclaimer: As per usual I own nothing.

* * *

The trio start searching for 'the man in the red bowtie' although it's much more difficult than anticipated. They spend two weeks in the library researching 'regeneration' and 'the man in the red bowtie'. They find nothing**. **This search was beginning to feel a lot like searching for Horcruxes. Few leads and nowhere to go.

Hermionedecides that they should split their search (into two parts). She would scour through muggle databases and police records for missing persons while Harry and Ron would go through the DMLE and Aurors records at the Ministry.

Ron in all of his brilliance suggests that Harry could just pop in there and get them to hand the record over**,** no questions asked. Harry gives him an _are-you-really-that-stupid _look, and Ron closes his mouth with a snap. Of course Harry couldn't**,** after allhe is technically dead. Evenif he were to go into the Ministry**,** no one would recognize him.

So now they're at the Ministry and Ron shamelessly uses his newly found fame _(of being the best friend of the boy-who-lived-only-to-die)t_o get police records about 'a man with a red bowtie'.

Harry rearranges pens on the hapless Sergeant's desk, whom Ron is now trying to shamelesslyguilt into giving them the records. He's only been lining up the pens for three minutes**,** but to Harry it's like hours. Every second and minute is an eternity for him now. Since his regeneration he's been acutely aware of every passing second. He can feel it - Time. He can literally feel it passing him by, and the longer he sits still the more he loses**,** and for some reason that makes him extremely anxious, _l__ike he has to be moving all the time._

Ron's pleading voice catches Harry's attention and he straightens up in his seat, abandoning the pens.

"You must understand Sergeant Murray, you have brothers, sisters, people close to you, right? Well this man we're looking for**,** he's very important and he means a lot to my friend here. It's just that, this man is his uncle, and we haven't been able to find him since the War, and we don't know what to do. We came to you, wondering if you could help us at all. Can you help us Sergeant?"

Sergeant Murraysighs, and turns his attention to Harry.

"Okay, then Mister**…**?"

"Evans, Mr. Evans, sir." supplies Harry, coming up with the surname on the spot. It was his mother's so it seemed natural, he should keep it.

"Alright then Mr. Evans**,** I'll need some information. Address, contacts, physical description, anything you got, no matter how small, just fill it out on this form right here." says the Sergeant, his elbows resting on the desk now.

The Sergeant hands them blank documents and sends them on their way. It takes Harry half an hour, trying to fill in every little detail he can think of_**.**_

All he really has of the 'man in the bowtie' is an impression - and a vague one at that,. When he thinks of the 'man in the bowtie' it feels like he's in the middle of a storm of fire and ice and rage. It's like he's looking into the eyes of the most ancient, most important being in the universe. Like this man has done more for him and everyone else than he could ever fathom.

He can see eyes burning golden fire from the strength of the Universe. A man who never backs down: who can turn Earth – the entire Universe – with just his voice. A voice that can shake with anger and rage or with happiness and glee. Fury that makes those happy eyes burn gold.

Harry writes it all down. He doesn't care if it sounds insane so long as it helps. He doesn't even have**a** name, he just puts down Uncle Smith. It seems a bit shifty**,** but once he turns in the report Harry feels like they've gotten somewhere and hopefully they'll have answers soon.

* * *

Meanwhile, Hermione's search had taken her to the Met, where she requests any missing persons reports on a 'man with a red bowtie'. Legally she shouldn't be allowedaccess**,** but some quick and possibly illegal wand work got her the papers she wanted.

The reports turn out to be useful. Immediately she notices several missing persons filed for one man all spanning from 1963 to 1989. Hermione notes that all of the missing persons reports have a title, but not a name, for the 'man with the bowtie'.

_The Doctor._

But Doctor Who?

There was one eccentric report though; the grammar and sentence structure like that of a six year old and it was probably one of the most valuable documents Hermione had found.

_The Doctor my Raggedy Man is special he really really likes fish sticks and custard but he says beans are evil, beans are bad. If you find make sure you give him some fish sticks and custard, beans'll scare him away and he has a magic box, it's the brightest blue ever and it can take you anywhere. I think that's what the Raggedy Man said but he's a bit mad, a mad man in a box that's my Raggedy Man. And He's got this floppy hair, big green eyes, and a goofy grin. Please if you spot him tell him it's been weeks, I'm still waiting. _

_-Amelia Pond_

There were various other reports asking for the Doctor, the man wearing the bow tie, and his whereabouts. Hermione pulls all sorts of files on the Doctor, from missing personsreports to criminal records checks. She 's surprised to find reports dating back even further than the 90's, even as far back as the 30's. Those reports were mostly on the destruction of property, disturbance of peace, obstruction of justice and interfering with police affairs. Even more confusing was how every report spanned from various periods of time.

A man this well known in the Met was probably dangerous**,** and to be able to evade the Met for so long…. He could be a wizard, which would explain his ability to stay under the radar in the muggle community and how he had records spanning all the way back to the 30's

All this made the need to find this man even more important.

Hermione decides to go into the computer lab. Although her experience with technology was a bit shoddy, since attending Hogwarts all year tends to leave one a bit backwards in the muggle world, she knew enough to get by.

Her first request into the search engine using only 'Doctor' merely results in a jumble of suggestions for family practices and nearby A&E's.

Next she tries The Doctor. A bit closer, she gets a few books on sci-fi and mythology but not what she's looking for.

Hermione thought for a moment, what else does she know about this Doctor...he wore a bowtie, and he had a blue box.

The Doctor, bowtie, blue box.

Hermione hits search. She scanned the first page, the first link catching her eye immediately

She clicks, reads the information, and quickly starts typing out an e-mail

* * *

Ron and Harry get back to Grimmauld Place and head toward the kitchen to ransack it for leftover biscuits. They're on their way down when they smell it**. **The most sinful thing they have ever smelled. Ever. And it's coming from the kitchen.

Both boys shove each other as they race to the kitchen to eat whatever Kreacher, the moody house elf has made them.

Ron hurdles in,jumping over the table towards the bench,and Harry slides in opposite. The house elf starts but ignores the disturbance, used to the boys' unruly ways. Harry leans backin his chair, clutching the table with long pale fingers to keep himself from falling as he peers towards Kreacher.

"What've you made? It smells wonderful," says Harry, taking a deep breath nearly vertical in his attempt to spot the source of the smell.

In response the house elf waves a hand, materializing plates, bowls, spoons, and glasses full of pumpkin juice. He waves his hand again and the bowls fill up with thick roast beef stew and warm slices of bread.

The boys immediately dig in, inhaling their stew in big gulps. They go through three servings, each.

The house elf waves a hand to clear the table onceit becomes obvious that the boys won't be able to eat anymore.

"Master Harry liked it?" Kreacher's ears are flat against his head, hands wringing the (now clean) tea towel.

Harry grins and pats the elf between the ears.

"Fantastic, we loved it." Harry nods to Ron including him and he nods back agreeing.

The duo, now full to the brim with warm stew and bread, stagger back to the sitting room. Harry collapses onto the sofa**,**hisfeet hanging off the edge. Ron lands on a wingback chair, his long legs stretched out in front of him.

The two lay like that for five minutes, periodically groaning at each other, irritated that no one stopped them at the second bowl of stew. Food drunk**,** neither boy notices hurried footsteps charging down the hallway toward them.

"I've found it, _well_, not really but I've figured out his name or a title at least - " shouted a feminine voice. As it's owner entered the sitting room the sound cut off at the sight of the near comatose boys.

"Seriously, Ronald...Harry do you have no self-control," berated Hermione, dropping her bags down next to a coffee table.

"Hrmmmm, uh...Hermione, your back." mumbled Ron, his face nestled into the wing-back chair.

"Glad you noticed, now get up both of you. I have something to show you," Hermione snipes, already arranging various papers, documents, books and one movie onto the coffee table.

With a groan, Harry pushes himself up out of the chair and sprawls on the floor next to the coffee table, kicking Ron's feet to get him up.

Ron and Harry digest the information that Hermione found in her search. They all stare at each other varying degrees of confusion and disbelief etched in their expressions.

"Amazing Hermione, how did you find all this?" said Harry.

"I have my ways," she replies in a conspiratorial tone. She leans forward pulling a slip of paper from out of the pile and places it onto the table in front of them.

"Look, we have an appointment with an expert tomorrow, well he calls himself an expert." corrects Hermione as she slides the paper over to Ron and Harry.

They stare at the paper as men do. Then looking at Hermione, Ron asks, "Who's Clive?"

* * *

After looking back on Clive's website, Hermione finds his home address and two e-mails and three hours later, Hermione has a time and a place set up for them. The trio are currently trying to leave Grimmauld Place but seemed to be having trouble leaving the doorstep.

The trio stands outside the front door of Grimmauld Place. If one stood close enough to the door of twelve Grimmauld place, between numbers eleven and thirteen they would hear whispers and if they listened close enough it would begin to sound like one very aggravated whisper and two very, very sheepish mumbles. But of course that's impossible so one ignores it and carries on and what about some tea.

"My wand, wait, where is it?" said Ron, patting his trousers pockets, front and back.

"No idea, mate." Harry put in unhelpfully.

"Thanks." said Ron sarcastically. Ron looked at Hermione, his last hope.

Really slowly as if approaching a wild animal, Ron said. "Hermione."

She rolled her eyes, exasperated. "Ronald, you really have no idea."

Then she leaned forward and plucked something from behind his ear, wiggling it between his eyes, holding it between her thumb and forefinger.

Ron snatched the wand from her hand. "But - how?" said Ron, running a hand behind his ear, checking. He looked at Harry, who shrugged but with a small smirk at the corner of his lips.

"Think about it it'll come to you." said Hermione, holding out her hands ready for apparation.

Ron looked bemused not remembering earlier when he had been teasing Hermione. Tucking his wand behind behind his ear impersonating a bookworm.

Ron grabs hold of Hermione's hand then Harry**'****s** and all at once they turn on the spot, a crack displacing the air around them and they're gone.

And if one heard that crack then it was no matter, it was just time to put the kettle on again.

* * *

crACK!

"Ow! Ron you stepped on my foot!" yelped Hermione, holding her foot.

"Sorry, sorry!" said Ron, trying to help.

"This does always seem to happen whenever we do side-alongs." Harry observed, watching the couple squabble.

"Yeah well, no more side-alongs. I think we all can apparate fine on our own, right." said Hermione, standing on both feet now.

"Alright then, lets go. I want to know what Clive has to say." said Harry, striding ahead.

Ron and Hermione look at each other**,** unsure if what they find will surpass their expectations or fall short.

"You know who he is?" asks Hermione as she wrings her hands together.

They were all standing in some sort of shed Clive had dedicated to gathering information on the Doctor. There were grainy photos, sketches, and slips of text taped to the walls and occasionally pinned to cork boards as if Clive had only just remembered he'd had them and that was their intended use. Several computers whirred at once, all displaying various website forums. Hermione was beginning to question Clive's validity.

"Yes, The Doctor. I believe the 'The Doctor' is just a title passed down from father to son and that's how his name stretches so far back, all the way back to the Roman Empire. "

Clive paused looking at each Harry, Ron, and Hermione in turn.

"The Doctor is a legend woven throughout history. When disaster strikes he's there. He brings a storm in his wake and he has only one constant companion." Clive explains, placing his palms on the center island."

Harry and Ron wonder around the room looking at each depiction of the Doctor, nothing jumping out at Harry.

"And who's that?" asks Harry, looking up from a picture of a man in a leather jacket.

"Death."

Everyone was silent, unsure of what to say. What sort of man were they searching for? What sort of man kept company with Death.

"Who's this? He looks different," says Ron, pointing to a sketch of a handsome man in a WWII era coat, standing against a brick wall as if posing for a magazine shoot.

"Ah, The Immortal Captain Jack Harkness, accounts of him go back to the mid-19th century." said Clive, looking over at the sketch.

"What are your most recent accounts?" said Hermione, interested.

"Uh...quite recently actually, but I think it's just some wankers looking for attention." said Clive, as he shoved papers off the keyboard from one of the many computers and began typing.

"Let me see, most recent sighting was last year, 1997 in Cardiff. Same as always." Said Clive.

"That sounds about right, thanks, uh..."

"Clive."

"Right, bye." Said Hermione, leaving the shed. Ron and Harry following behind.

"What was that?" Said Harry, incensed, wondering why Hermione had practically dragged them out of Clive's house. "We haven't even got anything yet!"

"I think we found our man." Said Hermione.

Harry frowned, that man in the sketch didn't feel like the Doctor, but he had to admit, there was something about him that was timeless, ageless, something out of place. The man's posture and sly grin seemed to scream 'I don't belong here'.

Whoever the Immortal Captain Jack Harkness is though, he may bring them closer to the Doctor. At least they hope so.


End file.
